


Of Roses and Paintjobs

by meteorfest



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:16:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5353676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meteorfest/pseuds/meteorfest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After landing in Portland, Prowl scans a local police cruiser. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are a little too amused by certain details. Originally published 2011-ish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Roses and Paintjobs

**Author's Note:**

> Posting from an older archive that I'm deleting. Ignores film canon when it comes to Jazz. Because reasons. For reference, [this](https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2419/2480742769_fac778b748_b.jpg) is a Portland police cruiser and Prowl's design comes from [Vejiraziel's artwork](http://plantman-exe.deviantart.com/art/TF-The-Mountain-Breaker-106742508)

It was too tempting.  
  
It took all the will Sideswipe had to keep from making a remark on Prowl's paintjob. Normally, the swordsmech didn't particularly notice paintjobs-that was something his twin, Sunstreaker, usually commented on-but this was just too easy. For the most part, Prowl's armor was painted white, a rather boring paintjob to begin with, with parallel lines of yellow and blue. Then Sideswipe's optics were drawn to the particular decal that the silver mech just couldn't stop staring at.  
  
Oh, it was so Primus-damned tempting. While Prowl was being welcomed to the base at Diego Garcia, Sideswipe hung back with his brother, newly arrived with the Autobot second-in-command. He kept his arms crossed over his chest, the blades that normally shielded his hands retracted to keep them from causing any damage on base. Carefully balanced on his wheels, he rolled back and forth, trying to keep himself distracted from Prowl's second set of doors.  
  
Sunstreaker, standing only a couple feet away from his twin, had his gaze focused on Prowl and the group of Autobots around him. His body was positioned the same as Sideswipe's, though he wasn't rolling on his wheels. He stood steady, arms crossed over his burnished gold chest. Sunstreaker was near identical to his brother, having scanned the same Corvette Stingray as Sideswipe had (courtesy of an auto show in the city of Portland, where he and Prowl had landed), though there were obvious differences; he lacked the blades that Sideswipe sported, favoring his fists and gun to blades, and his helm sported a set of audio 'fins', as the younger set of twins, Mudflap and Skids, had dubbed them, much to Sunstreaker's disdain.  
  
Sunstreaker glanced at his brother, his dark blue optics shifting slightly to look at Sideswipe. "What do you think of Prowl?"  
  
Sideswipe tried valiantly to keep laughter from overtaking him. "Does he know about the roses?" he asked, circumnavigating the question with one of his own.  
  
"He knows," Sunstreaker replied with an exasperated sigh. "I've been trying to get him to let me give him a new paintjob, but he thinks it's a waste of time and supplies."  
  
"Is he aware of just _where_ those roses are when he transforms?"  
  
Sunstreaker arched an optic ridge. "I doubt it," he said. "This is the first time he's been in robot mode since we scanned these alt modes."  
  
Sideswipe finally let loose his laughter, rubbing his hands together in an act he'd picked up from the humans he worked with. His optics glowed with glee. "It begins."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Jazz couldn't help the curl over his lip components at seeing Prowl. His long-time commander, friend and object of his affection, was once again being teased by the Corvette twins; the two of them had been getting on the tactician's case about his paintjob for nearly a week now. They took particular glee in teasing him about the bright red roses emblazoned on the door panels that adorned the mech's hips. Prowl, to the optics of many of the other Autobots and the eyes of the humans on base, was visibly unfazed, but to those who knew the tactician well, the signs of irritation were easy to spot.  
  
"Okay, you bots," Jazz said, approaching Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and reaching up to put his hands on their shoulders. "I think it's time the two o' ya headed to yer shifts."  
  
"Spoilsport," Sideswipe accused the small saboteur, grin over his lip components.  
  
Sunstreaker flickered his optics in the mechanical equivalent of rolling his optics. He rolled out of the room on his wheels, turning out the door and heading down the hall to check in for his shift. Sideswipe gave Prowl a final grin before moving to join his brother.  
  
"Catch you later, Rosehips," he called over his shoulder.  
  
Jazz couldn't help grinning in amusement as Prowl's door wings rose a fraction of an inch in irritation. The silver saboteur walked over to his friend and slipped an arm around the taller mech's shoulder. "Don't worry 'bout 'em, Prowl," he said. "They'll get bored o' it eventually."  
  
Prowl turned his head to the smaller mech, giving Jazz a look that told him that he didn't believe that. He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "They're simply going to continue to give me a hard time until I either give them what they want or Prime orders them to."  
  
"So go talk to Optimus 'bout it," Jazz suggested.  
  
"I think Optimus has enough on his hands without me coming to him with something as trivial as this," Prowl said, arching an optic ridge. "Besides, if we're talking about ridiculous paintjobs, I think Prime has me beat in that regard."  
  
Jazz gave Prowl a look of shock at that. His shock morphed into a grin and the silver mech was shortly laughing, visor shining a bright blue. Out of all the things he'd expected Prowl to say, that was not it. So few mechs realized that the tactician had a sense of humor, as Prowl was rather subtle with it. This out loud and blunt statement had caught Jazz off guard.  
  
Once he managed to pull himself together, Jazz stood up straight and lifted one clawed hand to his cheek, pretending to wipe a tear from his optics, like humans did. He looked at Prowl and let his grin reappear.  
  
"Sometimes, Prowl, I don't know what t'do with ya," he said.  
  
Prowl turned his optics to Jazz and a soft, almost invisible smile formed over his lip-plates. "You could help me with my new paintjob."  
  
Jazz's grin widened.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The next day, Sideswipe was in the rec room with his brother, Jolt and Epps, learning how to play a new video game the sergeant had brought to the base after his last stay stateside. One of the more technologically-inclined NEST operatives had rigged up a way for the younger Autobots to play video games with the humans, after Sideswipe and Jolt had shown an interest in them several months earlier. Sideswipe and Epps were caught up in their game when Prowl and Jazz came into the rec room.  
  
Jolt looked up as the other two Autobots came in and offered a cheerful greeting. Seconds later, he did a double-take and blinked at Prowl. "Prowl, you repainted yourself."  
  
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe both looked up at this, groans of disappointment escaping them as they took in the fresh white and immaculate black paintjob that Prowl now sported. The plain yellow and blue stripes that had once lined panels of the tactician's armor were gone and, to their biggest regret, so were the roses that had stood out so much and given them so much entertainment.  
  
"Killjoy!" Sideswipe shouted from his spot on the Autobot-sized couch.  
  
"And here I was hoping we'd get another week's worth of fun out of you," Sunstreaker complained.  
  
"Well, I apologize for taking away your fun," Prowl said, in a tone that clearly conveyed just how insincere his apology was. "However, if I recall correctly, it was you, Sunstreaker, who so wanted me to get a new paintjob."  
  
Sunstreaker gave a grumble, but otherwise made no comment. Sideswipe, on the other hand, crossed his arms over his chest with a slight pout. Jolt, seated next to him, put an arm around Sideswipe's shoulders, telling him in a low, suggestive voice that he'd find something else to amuse himself with. Sated, the silver mech dropped his hands back to the controller he'd been using to play, only to find that Epps had taken the opportunity to blast his character to oblivion when Sideswipe failed to pause the game.  
  
Jazz gave a laugh at the twins' disappointment and headed over to fetch energon for himself and for Prowl. He handed a cube to the tactician with a grin. Prowl gladly accepted the cube and drank its contents slowly.  
  
"By the way," he called to the twins. "The two of you are to report in for washrack duty."  
  
Sideswipe gave a groan. "Washrack duty?" he whined. Cleaning the washracks was one of the most tedious tasks on base. "What did we do to deserve that?"  
  
Prowl gave him a rather vindictive smile. "For the past week, you've indulged in ridiculing a superior officer. I'm being nice, Sideswipe. I could have you two keep your optics on the Minor Twins."  
  
Another groan escaped Sideswipe and Sunstreaker gave an identical one. Both Corvettes stood and started rolling out of the rec room, Sunstreaker giving his silver twin a whap to the back of his helm. He told him loudly that he blamed Sideswipe for the idea of mocking Prowl and getting them stuck with cleaning the washracks.  
  
As soon as the twins were gone, Jolt looked at Prowl again, catching sight of a familiar decal in the light as the tactician shifted. It was subtle, but the roses were still in place; just a deep shade of dark blue, barely visible, embossed against the black background. "Hey, you kept them!"  
  
Prowl stiffened slightly as Jazz burst into laughter. "Jazz insisted," he said.  
  
The silver saboteur gave Jolt a grin. "I kind of like them."  
  
Jolt gave a laugh of his own and decided not to tell Sideswipe about the roses.


End file.
